He loves Christmas?
by ajax.the.axe.murderess
Summary: Draco and Hermione are both ministry employees- and are both horrified when the ministry puts an end to christmas revels- how will they work together to save christmas for the good of all? fluffy, cute, humorous... my first fanfic! R&R please!
1. I DO NOT OWN HP gloop?

This is my first fanfiction ever, and I am EXTREMELY proud that it is a dramione (they're my fave pairing!!!) I am DELIGHTED to _finally_ have a fanfiction account- I've been reading fanfics for the past year and a half- but only recently opened my account!!! Please review, read, and enjoy FOR REVIEWS: flames, constructive criticism, etc… ALL IS WELCOME!!!

This SHOULD be a quick, light fanfic published and completed on Christmas--- its funny (hopefully) and I hope you all enjoy!!!

Gloop??

Hermione Granger, war hero, recipient of an Order of Merlin (first class), and

Auror extrodinaire was pumped.

_Christmas is in ONE MONTH!!! _She cheered mentally, as she navigated the icy streets of Diagon Alley, on her way home from picking up some spare potion ingredients and early Christmas presents. But she wasn't being completely honest with herself. _Okay, fine. _She conceded to herself. _One month and one day. Plenty of time to prepare. _Tommorrow, the Daily Prophet would announce the details of the annual Ministry Christmas Extravaganza, Christmas market, and Gala! There would also be the annual ministry Christmas staff meeting- Open to all ministry employees from Wizengamot judges to broom cupboard cleaners. She loved helping prepare for the course, Hermione, being an auror, had sources inside the ministry, and usually found out more about this special event ahead of time. _Of course,_ she realized_ there hasn't been much hype about it this year. Actually, there hasn't been ANY. Oh dear. _She sighed. There was no use getting worked up about something as silly as less gossip than usual within the ministry.

Hermione slipped on the ice, sliding less-than gracefully towards her doorway, landing in a heap under her mailbox. _Great! _She thought, shuffling through her pockets desperately. _I'll bet that 'Mysterious beasty' egg I got Hagrid is broken!! _Sure enough, greenish-yellow, acidic-smelling goop was now oozing through her pocket, burning a hole in the leather of her jacket. She sat up suddenly, realizing that she was, essentially, lying in the broken egg-yolk. _GROSS! _Her head banged on the mailbox. _OUCH! _She lay back down quickly, and watched the world spin slightly. Egg-yolk-goop oozed from her pocket onto the sidewalk. _Who would've thought that such a small egg would've had so much gloop in it?_ She wondered.

"Merlin's fudgemuffins!" said a voice above her. "what the HELL is this CRAP??" She looked to the side to see a pair of expensive dragon hide boots now covered in a mixture of green-yellow-yolk-gloop and melting snow. Hermione sighed. _That voice sounds awfully familiar_ she realized._ And I'm really NOT feeling like any confrontations right now. _Hermione sat up again, scooting over as she did so to avoid another encounter with her mailbox. And groaned when she saw who it was.

"Malfoy," she said slightly testily "Good to see you again." While her words were cordial, her voice showed her true feelings; while Draco Malfoy had passed information to the light side during the war, clearing his family name and making himself a war hero, he was by no means (from Hermione's point of view) any less of a snob or an asshole than he had been before the war. She had no desire to see him now, or ever again for that matter.

"Forgoing all pretenses of congeniality, let's get right to the point," Malfoy intoned, his voice an angry hiss "WHY ARE MY PRICELESS DRAGON-SKIN BOOTS A GIFT FROM MY FIANCÉ- OR EX-FIANCÉ I SHOULD SAY- COVERED IN SLIME???"

"If she's your ex-fiancé why are you wearing her gifts?" Hermione said, dancing around the real question. Malfoy glowered.

"That's besides the point." He said, his tone now edged with sulkiness. He thought for a moment. "But honestly, if she's gone, clearly she won't be buying me another pair of boots. WHICH MAKES YOUR CRIME ALL THE WORSE!!"

"How do you know the slime is because of me?" Hermione wondered.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE SITTING UNDER SOME CRAZY BOX (what is that, by the way?) AND THE SLIME IS COMING OUT OF YOUR POCKET!!" Malfoy shouted, his pale cheeks now tinged with pink. Hermione smiled.

"It's a Muggle mailbox, Malfoy," she explained, with an air of benevolence, as if she was a Queen, explaining the workings of a kingdom to a lowly peasant who has no hope of understanding. Malfoy scowled at her tone.

"Alright, Miss high and mighty! Let's get back to the poi- WAIT! Why do you have a Muggle mailbox in a suburb of WIZARDING London?" he asked, getting sidetracked again. This time it was Hermione's turn to frown.

"I think it's quite homey-looking," Hermione defended. "besides, I can decorate it for the holidays!!" Both party's faces lit up briefly at the mention of Christmas, before Draco scowled again.

"I have places to be, Mudblood," he said (Hermione frowned at his use of the derogatory term) "seeing as I can simply clean my boots with magic, I won't press charges—" (Hermione snorted- Draco glowered) "—this time!" he walked a couple paces away and turned abruptly on his heel, apparating away, but not before Hermione caught a couple bars of the Christmas carol 'Magic Bells' by the Wacky Wizards and Wobbly Witches- a popular wizarding band.


	2. I do NOT need harring eeds!

I do NOT need harring eeds!!!

Today was November 25th. Today Draco, like all other ministry employees,

would be attending the annual Christmas planning staff meeting. Of course the usual would happen- tasks would be assigned to different departments, and the events would be arranged. Draco, the youngest member of the Wizengamot in a century, secretly loved the holiday season. He actually looked forward to this meeting. Ever since Pansy had broken off their engagement when she had found a richer eligible pureblood bachelor to dig her vicious claws into _(richer than me? _Draco scoffed as he though of his ex-fiancé's decision), Draco had poured his energies into his position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and his place on the Wizengamot. He had been secretly looking forward to this meeting for months. As usual, he would pretend to be indifferent, and allow himself to be cajoled into taking on a large portion of the preparatory work.

The meeting was at eleven. Looking around meeting room 113, which was packed, Draco saw Blaise Zabini- an old pal, now in the Department of Foreign Relations- other acquaintances enemies- and Granger. _She actually looks quite nice,_ he thought surprisedly. She was decked out in holiday apparel, her face shining with holiday anticipation.

Refreshments were passed around, and everyone mingled for a quarter of an hour.

Percy Weasley- the youngest minister of magic since the dark ages- climbed up on the podium, and cleared his throat authoritatively. Draco snorted into his punch.

"It is my duty, as Minister of Magic," he paused here, allowing the statement to sink in, "to inform you all that the war, which we were victorious in just over a year ago- has taken a great toll on our funds. The ministry has seen fit therefore, to cut expenditures drastically. Also, more and more problems are arising as the mayhem caused by the war is sorted through. We need all our departments on-task at all times. For this reason, our financial advisees, with my approval, have decided to cut out the ministry's annual Christmas frivolities; there will be no Christmas Extravaganza, Gala, or Market this year."

Percy stepped down from the platform, bowing his head in a would-be majestic manner, had a paper cup not just been thrown at his head by an angry bystander. Shouts quickly started up.

"WE WANT CHRISTMAS! WE WANT CHRISTMAS!" The present members of the Department of Post-war Morale-Upping chorused.

Guards quickly formed around Percy, and he disappeared from view. Percy's second-in-command took the Podium.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" He thundered. "It is not my place to agree or disagree with this decision—which, I will note, has been made for the good of the magical community—but instead to encourage you all to work hard to get us out of this economic decline, so that this state of affairs does not become permanent. Please support our minister and show the public a united front, and hope and pray for an extravaganza next year." A sparkling tear dripped down his ebony cheek, but he quickly wiped it away. "think of how lucky we all are to still be here- for clearly none of those present have been killed in the war- please, cope with this decision, and be grateful for what you have, not what you do not have! Any questions? Yes Mr. Malfoy?" The former Auror seemed to have noticed Malfoy's readily reading face and shaking countenance.

"WHAT??" Draco Malfoy seemed to have finally recovered from his state of shock. "WHAT! This is propsterous! Ridiculous! As an upstanding ex-deatheater and member of the wizarding community at large I DEMAND that you reinstate the Christmas celebration!!"

"I'm sorry sir," Kingsley said respectfully, but with finality, "the decision has been made. And no preparations as to what needs to be done have been made. Usually preparations begin in August. I'm afraid your dreams of a Christmas Extravaganza will never become a reality this year."

"WHAT? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?!?" Draco shouted again. _This is preposterous! He thought. _

"Mr. Malfoy!" a voiced piped up from the side of the room where the Aurors and unspeakables were seated. "Do you need a hearing aid? Mr. _Shacklebolt_ has been very clear and concise in his elaboration of the Ministry's decision!" Draco Malfoy glowered. The statement had come from none other than Hermione Granger.

"I do NOT need a harring eed!" said Draco, mispronouncing the Muggle device. "and what in sweet Circe's name is a harring aid anyway?"

"I'll take that question!" Arthur Weasley, now head of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, piped up enthusiastically, skipping to the podium and pushing Shacklebolt aside. "It's actually a Muggle device, used to enhance hearing of the elderly or hearing-impaired, pronounced HEE-RING AID!"


	3. At the Three Broomsticks

At the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione was depressed. Christmas was a great holiday, which had it's place, but what she really enjoyed was the preparation for it, and how she was able to give back to the community each year by volunteering for the Christmas extravaganza. Sitting alone at a table in the back of the Three Broomsticks, she nursed a mug of butterbeer, sighing occasionally.

She was particularly struck by Draco Malfoy's behavior. _He really loves Christmas, huh?_ She thought. _I guess he's just an old softie inside. I feel uber-bad for him… it seems like he doesn't have much to live for now that his dad's in Azkaban, his mom's passed away, and his fiancé has ditched him for greener pastures… _Hermione knew all about Draco Malfoy's life since the war, since she had been in charge of investigating him, the manor, and his motives to make sure he had no sinister intents once his name had been cleared. Hermione's mind drifted. _He's actually grown quite handsome. And he looked striking in that deep green turtle neck and with darker green robes over it today! _Hermione quickly came back to earth. _What am I thinking? Who cares how he looks? He's STILL a git…_

The doorbell ching-a-linged. _Speak of the devil. _Thought Hermione, as the one and only Draco Malfoy entered the three broomsticks. Seeing his depressed face, a plan began to form in her ever-ready mind. She beckoned Draco over.

"Just how much money do you have that you're willing to part with, Malfoy?" she asked as soon as he was standing next to her table. He sneered.

"fortune hunting already, Granger?" he asked, "so soon after the fiasco with Weasel-bee?" Hermione blushed. Her disasterous engagement to Ron Weasley had been a source of humor to virtually all of the order during the war. She forgave them, passing their amusement off as stress-relief, but it still was a sore topic with her.

"No." she said shortly. "I just had a plan involving the no-longer-existing Christmas extravaganza. Being a caring person, I realize that many underprivileged children depend on the extravaganza for their Yuletide happiness; it has come to my attention that you yourself are you quite a fan of the event, so I thought that, with proper funding, I would find a way for reinstate an equivilant."

"What are you proposing, Granger?" Malfoy hedged.

"Amendment 134 to the Warlock Accord 1204 states that in the absence of usage of ministry facilities, Employees of said ministry may choose to utilize said facilities for public works, and if 20% of underprivileged individuals residing in the City of question attend this event, the ministry must restore, within a year, 75% of the funds initially spent on the event to the primary financer. In other words, we make a protest. We put together our own extravaganza, with temporary funding, and eventually you would get back MOST of your money. I would be willing to reimburse you the other 25% when I get my quarterly salary in February. Therefore, in the long run, you would lose nothing, but you would gain a Christmas Extravaganza. I would be willing to--" Malfoy cut her off.

"Whoa! Granger! What the hell! I come in here to lick my wounds, and drown my thoughts in firewhisky, and you drop a veritable bomb of ideas on my head! WTF???" Malfoy paused. "And how in the name of Merlin's dirty underpants do you know Amendment 134? In order to attain a ministry post you only need to know that 341 most important amendments of all time!" Hermione smiled.

"Are you complaining about my knowledge, Draco?" She asked. Draco stared at her.

"You just called me Dr-dr- DRACO!!!" He stuttered slightly, stunned by her slip-up. Hermione blushed.

"Well, I'm trying to produce an atmosphere conducive to cooperation," she mumbled. "and besides…" she said, her voice gaining confidence, "As I was saying, if I hadn't known of that ridiculously old Amendment we wouldn't be able to do this!"

"Whoa, hold your thestrals, Granger- I haven't agreed to anything—yet!" He shouted. Then he cracked a smile—not a smirk; a real, true smile—during their conversation he had sat down, and he now picked up his firewhisky mug, and gestured at her. Getting his message, she too picked up her glass and they toasted on it to seal the deal.


	4. The next month

Over the next month…

Author's note: This chapter is a summary of the next months- just the highlights of Dramione fluffy momentssssss!!! Yay!

Xoxox merry Christmas ev'rybody!

Jazzy

November 27: The first meeting

9:00 AM-

_THE DOORBELL?_ Was Hermione's first cohesive thought on that windy morning in late November. Sure enough, her magically enhanced doorbell was ringing 'I kissed a girl' by Katy Perry- it was charmed to sense visitors intents and ring different rings for different kinds of people- 'I kissed a girl' was for males with romantic intentions. _Who could that be? _Hermione wondered._ I DON'T have a boyfriend, or even any love interests. _Never the less, she threw on her dressing gown, and opened the door.

_Holy Mary Mother of God!_ She thought, reverting to Muggle exclamations in her surprise. It was Draco Malfoy. _WHY DID THE DOORBELL RING THE ROMANTIC RING FOR HIM??? _She pondered_. Well, he must be so messed-up it can't tell his intentions…_

"I figured we might as well have our first meeting today!" Said Draco, sounding cheerful, "I brought some breakfast for you, since I figured this was kind of early." He bustled into the house. Hermione giggled, at his Molly-Weasley-ish walk.

"What's so funny?" he spun around.

"Ummm… Nothing," she covered quickly, casting around for an excuse. "Just… um… how did you find my address?" He smiled and leaned in close. His proximity, and the piney-fresh smell of his body was intoxicating to Hermione. She felt briefly dizzy. He tapped his head.

"It's all about connections, something you wouldn't know about…" He trailed off and smirked, but somehow there seemed to be less malice in his voice.

December 6th: Shopping for Supplies

10:00 PM-

"Drayyy-Co!" Hermione called as she searched through the magical florists' shop for her partner-in-crime. She finally found him, underneath a display of mistletoe with the shops attractive young proprietor. They were deep in conversation, and for a moment Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She saw him look up at the mistletoe, and down at his companions face. _Will he kiss her?_ She wondered. For some reason she didn't like the idea. It made her stomach feel all achy-queasy. He smiled an easy, half-smirk, half-smile at her, a face that she'd come to recognized her reserved especially for her. Slowly, deliberately, he took a step away form the mistletoe, and beckoned to Hermione.

December 13th: Finalizing the booking of the Facilities

1:00 PM

Draco and Hermione walked side-by-side through the newly-fallen snow that lined the streets of London. When they reached a deserted alleyway, they entered, and with simultaneous pops and spins-on-their heels, they apparated. They materialized in the atrium of the ministry of Magic, Draco stabilizing Hermione as she wobbled a little after landing.

Draco never ceased to marvel at how well they worked together; wordlessly, they advanced towards the lifts, both with the same unspoken plan in mind. By the time they entered the office of Daphne Greengrass, head of the Department of Facility and Function Monitoring, they were in working mode. Hermione waited outside while Draco entered the office.

"Hello, Draco, Darlinggg," Said Ms. Greengrass, elongating her syllables in a typical imation-slytherin-drawl. She reached out and took his hand. "You must be here about booking the facilities, under Amendment 107, was it, of the Warlock Accord of 1706, right?" she giggled flirtatiously. _Ug! _Thought Draco. _Such a Featherbrain. She has the memo and petition I sent her right in front of her- she should be able to get the date right at least!_

"Actually, Ammendment 134 of the Warlock Accord of 1204…" Draco corrected her, with polite impassiveness, pointedly ignoring her batting eyelashes.

"Whatever, darling," She said, with a lazing flick of her wrist. "I really wish you'd reconsider. I mean, working with mudblood filth like that for CHARITY, practically? Come on! You know I have no choice but to let you use the hall!" Draco bristled.

"Do NOT use that derogatory term in my prescence, Greengrass," He hissed. "Do the necessary paperwork, ASAP and return it to my inbox, or I'll report your inappropriate behavior." Outside, Hermione heard him. _Oh! _she thought. _He's really changed. He's more considerate, and unbiased…_

December 23: The day before the day before the BIG DAY

11:00 PM-

Exhausted, Draco and Hermione collapsed onto the sofa in Hermione's office. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve; they'd spent the whole day working on the final preparations of the festival facilities; notifications of the event had been posted in the prophet; all was ready. Over the month they had worked together they had grown to respect one anther- a strong bond of friendship had developed between them that neither wanted to lose once their work was over. Exhausted, they cuddled up together, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, and slept.


	5. surprise, surprise!

Surprises, surprises!

Hermione woke on Christmas Eve with butterflies in her stomach. Her time was

up- everything she had worked towards culminated tomorrow. She had truly enjoyed the planning process, as she did every year; however, this year seemed even more special than other years. She jumped slightly as she realized that she was lying on Draco's shoulder, his arm's holding her tight against the cold. Draco's Icy-yet-warm drop-dead-gorgeous blue-grey eyes opened, one at a time in a true I'm-Draco-Malfoy-the-Sexy-God fashion. Then he grinned, and snuggled back into the Sofa. Hermione smiled at him. _He's truly one of a kind. _She thought. _There are few people that I could grow THIS close to in such a small amount of time… _

Hermione finally broke up the purely-platonic human pretzel that had been her and Draco, and as she disentangled herself, she smiled once more. Draco remained lying down.

"Hey, buster!" she leaned down and whispered in his ear. He jumped. "I'm a-gonna head home now, get freshened up, visit my parents… all that good stuff… how 'bout I see you 'round eight tonight back here, and we'll go over a few things for tomorrow?" In his mind Draco protested. _No! Don't go 'Mione! _He paused. _'Mione? Where did that come from? Your becoming a freaky nickname-producing Romeo, Draco! _He scolded himself… Instead, he simply nodded. _I wish we could stay like this all day…we could play Gobstones, or exploding snap, or Hagrid-and-the-Half-Giant_ (a relatively new wizarding version of hide-and-seek)… Suddenly he saw Hermione's attractively blushing face approaching his. She kissed him full on the mouth, and beat a hasty retreat. _WHOA! _For a few moments he was starstruck. And suddenly it all became agonizingly clear; reality hit him over the head like the whomping willow. _I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. She is THE ONE FOR ME. She is MY mudblood. _He realized this with raw, affectionate emotion. _Wait! _He thought _Weren't her parents killed in the war??_ He turned to look for her, but she was gone.

Hermione spent the day visiting her parents graves, and pondering her brief, searing, perfect, and completely one-sided first-kiss with Draco.

Draco, on the other hand, had other plans. He went to Damon and Darling's (jewelers extraordinaire) in Diagon Alley, in search of the perfect ring.

At eight O'clock Hermione let herself into Draco's apartment. The time had come to tell him the truth. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark any longer. She waited in the dark living room for her friend to return home. At precisely eight fifteen he returned, his hair mussed from the wind. _God, he is gorgeous_- the thought flitted through her mind unbidden.

"Draco," she began, her voice steady, despite her quaking interior. "we really, really, really, really, really need to talk." Draco looked surprised, but sat down next to her on the loveseat and nodded for her to continue. "As you know, I love preparing for the Christmas Extravaganza. I love the idea of it; giving joy to those in need; ministry employees getting a break to hang out with their colleagues… you get the point… but I never go myself; truth is, I'm jewish."

Draco looked completely nonplussed. Hermione sighed, seeing that she'd need to elaborate.

"Christmas was, for Muggles at least, traditionally a pagan celebration of Yule, in midwinter; during periods of Christianization, Christians took the Yule celebration, which was at the center of pagan religions, and turned it into a Christian feast, honoring the birth of their 'savior' Jesus Christ, the supposed sun of God." Draco seemed to be chewing on this information, still not putting two and two together. "While I'm not a practicing Jew, my parents were. I was raised without Christmas, though I do have respect for it. Jews view Christ as a prophet, not the Son of God, and therefore don't Celebrate Christmas. So, to honor my parents memories I still don't celebrate Christmas; or attend the Christmas Extravaganza for that matter." Draco stared.

"Whoa. That's a lot of information for me right now…" he trailed off. "I'm kind of stunned, and hurt that you didn't tell me from the beginning that you wouldn't be participating in the actual extravaganza." (Draco's pictures of the perfect proposal- at the extravaganza vanished) "quite honestly, I need time to think, to process this betrayal. I'm sorry 'Mione." They stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity- his face, hard, cold, closed, like it had been before he let her in, her face stricken, apologetic, but somehow unsurprised. Then he apparated away. Only after the 'pop' from his departure had long since stopped echoing in the high-vaulted ceiling of the Malfoy sitting room did Hermione realize he'd called her 'Mione. Then she cried for all the mistakes she'd made; all the lies she'd told. And for what could've been.

The next day at 3 O'clock Hermione was at home, in her flat, in London, with a cup of tea, salty from her tears. She wasn't really the type to mope, but she felt terrible for what she had done for Draco. She took a sip of tea, and coughed, as the now quite briny mixture slid unpleasantly down her throat. She hiccoughed, and sniffled, and snuffled, and snuggled deeper into her blanket of sorrow. The extravaganza was starting any minute now… and Draco would be there, with his beautiful, smart colleagues, dressed oh-so-handsomely. And he wouldn't think of her, because she had betrayed him.

A few minutes later the floo flaired to life, Hermione, sitting on her couch, back turned to the floo, hunkered down, shutting her eyes, pretending she wasn't there. Whoever it was would go away. Her flat was silent.

"Mione!" A deep, gentle voice she had come to love called out from the hearth. And then she realized—and it felt like she was a first year, again, at platform nine and three quarters, and she had accidentally ran into the wrong brick wall—because the truth was rushing fast towards her. _I love him. _She realized. She sprang up quickly from the sofa, and spun around, vaulting over her furniture, and grabbing the still-dusty Draco from the floo.

"I LOVE YOU!!" she shouted, her sad tears now mixing with tears of happy realization. "I am sorry for lying to you. I am sorry for betraying you. I am sorry for thinking of only myself. And I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner how much I love you." Draco stared at her and then pulled her into a tight embrace, before kissing her soundly. When they finally broke apart for air, Hermione's mind was full of questions.

"Why are you here?" she asked. He smiled at her, that half-smile, half-smirk, that was reserved specially for her.

"Because I couldn't stay away." He whispered. "Because I can't blame you for respecting your parents, for loving to help others, for being confused about what to tell me. And because I love you."

Hours later, they sat cuddled up on the sofa, Hermione's teary-blanket covering them both, the wizarding wireless turned on, sipping hot cocoa. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione silenced him.

"Shhh… listen…" Hermione said, as the announcer started speaking.

"The brainchild of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, the first ever non ministry-endorsed Christmas Extravaganza has been a wild success; not only have more ministry employees turned out than ever before, but also 67% of London's underprivileged wizarding population attended, providing holiday cheer for all. The only notable deficiency in the party is the lack of the creators; both Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy…That's all for now folks. Time for some good ol' music." The announcers voice faded away.

"Looks like you'll be getting your 75% back anyway…" Hermione whispered into Draco's hair. Draco smiled his secret smile. As the Strains of 'Magic Bells' by the Wacky Wizards and Wobbly Witches began, Draco drew the ring from his pocket and got down in on his knee in front of the only woman he loved.


End file.
